Knight
by helenluvsboo
Summary: Years after the Original Family returns to Mystic Falls, Elena Gilbert is dead. Eloise Knight has been writing her life story, disguised as fiction. She is content, but three years of freedom will come to an end when an old friend drops by a book signing.
1. Chapter 1: Knight

**Knight**

_Written by helenluvsboo_

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><p>Her book signings were always nerve-wracking. She worries that faces from the past—unwelcome ones—will rear their ugly heads and proclaim the truth to the world: that Eloise Knight is a fraud, that she is telling the autobiographical tales of Elena Gilbert, three years dead, and passing them off as fiction.<p>

Thus far, no one has come forward to complain about the shameless pilfering from her past life.

She's glad, really, because she killed Elena Gilbert for a reason. Freedom.

Freedom from the past, and from the potential future she could have had if she had stayed on that road. She didn't want to be the rope in the Salvatore Brothers' endless tug-of-war. She did not want to be the sacrificial lamb for some deranged supernatural creature after the blood of the doppelganger. And she definitely didn't want to love any more vampires. Ever.

She has given up on a normal life, she thinks idly, as she smiles at a teenage girl, so young and brimming with life, while signing the book pushed at her with shaking hands. Elena Gilbert cannot have a husband or children. Too much of her stolen when she was young, too much love lost, too many hopes crushed. And she refuses to doom another young woman wearing her face to the hellish life of a Petrova doppelganger.

She writes in the girl's book "Never give up on your dreams. Always fight for them. Never give up. Eloise Knight." The girl takes the book back, and unlike most readers, does not immediately leave to fangirl somewhere else. She stands stock-still, and reads it aloud.

Elena swallows, beating down a pang of regret. She never gave up on her writing dreams, but she gave up on so many other things, things she had longed for… before she grew up. She forces a smile and reminds herself, for the hundredth, thousandth, millionth time, that Elena Gilbert is dead. That she is Eloise Knight now. The teenage girl smiles back, radiating happiness.

"Thank you," she says enthusiastically, as others in line behind her grumble, "Oh, thank you SO MUCH, Miss Knight."

Elena smiles and replies, "You're very welcome," The girl turns and walks away, "Enjoy the book!" she calls after the skipping, retreating back.

"I am certain that I will, Miss Knight."

The voice makes her stop cold. It is so achingly familiar, as if she heard him yesterday. His goodness, his dedication, and his morality are all still overwhelmingly present. Her heartbeat quickens. She once believed that she could, maybe, give him her heart—a schoolgirl's pipe dream—but he never came back to Mystic Falls after his sister nearly lit her on fire and his family nearly died at their mother's hand. She had been sorry, had always wondered what could have been if he had stayed—how differently would her life have turned out?

He was not there when his brother made after her best friend. Poor Caroline. She'd done nothing to deserve Klaus' obsession. She was just herself—a ray of sunshine that Klaus wanted to enjoy. Good, kind, sweet Caroline, who did not deserve to be chased by a monster who enjoyed snuffing out little lights in the darkness.

She has been so angry with Elijah for so long—he was supposed to be the peacekeeper that reined in the chaos his family wrought upon the earth and its people. When he left, they unleashed horrors the world was not prepared for.

She heard later that Elijah had carved stakes from the new oak tree and killed Klaus and Rebekah after their treatment of Caroline and later attempt on her own life. She had not seen him while captive, but the Salvatore brothers told her that he had lead the assault to reclaim her from her kidnappers. Damon said that Elijah staked Klaus himself.

Stefan later told her that Kol met the same end when he tried to gain revenge.

She shook herself out of her musings and slowly turned her head to meet the eyes of the man she knew so well. A good man. A strong man. An honest man.

A vampire.

She presses her lips together to stop the words that want to spill out. She is not that girl anymore, and he is a stranger now.

She speaks to him in her head while her hand reaches out to take the book he offers.

'Hello, Elijah. It has been too long. Too many years. How are you? Why are you here? What do you want? Why haven't you approached me before? Why did you save me all those years ago? Am I important? Do you think I am important? Am I important to you?' she chatters mindlessly in her mind.

She aches to know, but she is not that person anymore. She forces a smile. "Any special requests?" she asks lightly.

"If you could sign the back cover, please," he says, eyes trained on hers, reading her like a book, "I would be much obliged."

She nods and lets the book fall open.

She is unsurprised to see a message already printed there in his neat and precise handwriting.

"Those who would do you harm are coming for you tonight," it reads, "And I will not have you harmed. Come to me, after. I will wait for you to finish."

She forces a smile even as her heartbeat races.

"No problem," she forces a smile that does not reach her eyes—has it ever reached her eyes?

She writes "Thank you. Come to my apartment afterwards." He will know where she lives because he is always meticulous, always thorough, always prepared. She ignores the flickering impulse to write 'Why?' or 'I think I could love you'. No good will come of dredging up old dreams. She tries to sign "Eloise Knight", but it comes out "Elena Gilbert".

She swallows, staring it the page, the shuts the book abruptly and holds it out with a smile, curdled by fear. Three years of freedom from the supernatural, down the drain. How quickly ghosts from the past return to haunt again.

He smiles, genuinely, and she shivers. He notices. He reads her reply silently, and then tips his head.

"Thank you, Miss Knight," he says, locking eyes with her, before spinning on his heel and striding out of the bookshop. She swallows.

And so it begins. She wonders if it ever really ended.

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><p><strong>Author note:<strong>

_Elena's penname was specifically chosen: Eloise is related to helios, the Greek sun god, and Knight for obvious reasons._

_Thanks to Albion19 for beta-ing this. It's been so long since I wrote fanfiction and it's the first time I've written for this couple. I didn't want to epic fail. =D  
><em>


	2. Chapter 2: Hero

**Hero**

Written by helenluvsboo

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><p>For the longest time I did not want to write a follow-up to this one-shot. I thought I might cheapen it, or something. But then my muse just would not leave it alone and some more chapters formed in my mind. I hope you all like them, your approval and encouragement is a major part of the reason that they exist.<p>

I've sort of planned out the story, and it's a total of 10 chapters. That might change though, we will see.

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><p>After so much time spent travelling to book signings, Elena has become accustomed to packing light—packing the bare essentials, because carrying too much becomes a bother. How is this any different? She took a deep breath and fisted her trembling hands, nails biting into her sweaty palms, and thinks 'because someone's trying to <em>kill<em> you'.

She thanks whatever deity exists for her speed-packing-skills now as she moves silently and quickly—like clockwork—around her bedroom, packing clothes, hygienic items, laptop equipment, pajamas, sanitary items, and a few other necessities. This practiced and synchronized path around her room makes it all a bit easier, moving robotically, but she never thought she would be packing to go on the run . . . _again_.

She stuffed another pair of underwear into the bag, she staring at her life in a suitcase with a sad swallow. She felt a tremor pass over her. She looked up, expecting to see her favourite original leaning against the door or standing just outside it, waiting to be invited in. The room was empty, the clear path to the front door—she'd chosen the apartment because of the huge hallway that lead directly to both the front and the back exits, just in case—and was rewarded only with air and empty promises.

Elijah wasn't there.

'It's not like him to be late,' she thinks, twisting her fingers together and rubbing her vervain bracelet. The heavy locket, also laced with vervain and always worn under her shirt, feels cool against her breastbone, and she resists the urge to reach up and check that it is still there.

Everything feels surreal.

'How did this happen?' she wondered, folding a thick sweater for cold nights, and pressing it into a corner of her bag, 'When did I leave so much of myself behind?'

Leaving Mystic Falls has been hard. Leaving the bad memories and the people who hated her behind had been necessary. Leaving the unseen ghosts who walked the town and reminded her of all the people—named and unnamed—who had died so that she could continue to live, had been essential. Because staying in a place where nothing remained but bad memories, people who hate you, and ghosts of deaths past could never make her happy.

She did not want to live in a Mystic Falls without Caroline's sunny smile, Jenna's expressive eyes, or Rick's haunted grimace. She did not want to live in the place where her parents had died. She did not want to stay in a place where innocent and good people had become willing or unwilling victims in the quest to keep her alive.

She bit her bottom lip. 'Too many lives lost,' she thought, 'for me, so that I could live another day, and it's just not worth it.' She had made contact with one of Isobel's old acquaintances and arranged for her 'death'. She left in the night and stayed away from her old hometown. It was better that way. She waited for six months for the vampire to brag about ending the doppelganger, and then staked him in his sleep.

She flinches, remembering the look of betrayal, another set of eyes that looked at her and saw Katerina Petrova's sins. Maybe she has become as jaded as Katherine now, who knows?

She balks at the thought and runs a hand through her short black hair, shoving those thoughts down and burying them deep inside. She hates going down this road, and it happens far too often.

Elena turns abruptly to go down the hall and into the bathroom. She needed the hair dye. Her disguise would be useless if she did not keep it up. And what would be the point, then?

She grabbed a small bottle of hair gel and paused, staring at the small drawer of the vanity. Unbidden, her hand reaches for it. She pauses, glances behind her, down the hall, to the front door. It is still deserted.

'Is he even coming?' she wonders as her shaking hand pulls the drawer open to gaze on her old dreams. Inside is one beautiful lingerie set that she has never worn, saving it for a special occasion. She draws it out, gazing at it wistfully, remembering the days when she actually hoped to wear it.

"Are those articles of clothing… necessary?" Elijah's voice drawls, amused.

She drops them in shock, embarrassed. A moment passes and she fiddles with her fingers, before swooping down to scoop them up and stuff them back in the drawer. "No," she mumbles, avoiding his eyes, still caught up in old dreams and unwilling to face her uncertain future, "They aren't needed."

She picks up the bottle of black hair dye, pauses, then reaches for a small stake as well, curling her fingers around it. This is her future: running and hiding, never settling down, searching for safety from the supernatural. The corners of her mouth twitch, her gaze hardens, and she finally meets his gaze.

"I'm ready," she says, walking past into her bedroom to add the bottle of hair dye to her case and slipping the stake into the hidden pocket up her jacket sleeve.

The sudden breeze of a vampire speeding up behind her has her tensing her shoulders and withdrawing her hand into her sleeve to grip the stake, despite knowing that it is Elijah. She turns a wry grin on her face, saying "Still doing that, huh? Does anything ever change?"

His inscrutable eyes wander over her face and a flash of something that looks like pain echoes through his eyes as he reaches for her short hair. His fingertips graze its choppy edges and then he suddenly pulls his hand back with a blur as his eyes seem to soften to liquid pools of warmth. Her grin melts.

"Why black?" he asks quietly as she pulls open a drawer beside her bed and slips a vervain grenade into her pocket. She presses her lips together, turns away, and picks up her small suitcase.

He waits. She swallows.

"Brown reminded me of Bonnie, who hated me and died for me. Blonde is Caroline's, I could never wear it."

He places a hand on her shoulder and squeezes, comfortingly. The gesture reminds her of days long gone, of a vampire who she always trusted to do the right thing. The only one that she cared for who did not hurt her in return.

She savours the silence between them.

And then, in a burst of activity and colour, all hell breaks loose.


End file.
